The Nord and the Nightingale
by Croatin
Summary: Neona, a bosmer thief, finds a family among the thieves of Riften. Little does she know of the treacherous machinations she will have to unravel, all while keeping her greatest secret, her Lycanthropy, hidden. BosmerF x Brynjolf
1. Of Flames and Tears

**Hello, and thank you for taking a look at my FF of skyrim.**

**I hope you enjoy what i've thought up here =] I'm looking for a beta reader, if anybody is interested i'd appreciate one.**

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><p>The chilling, night winds bit at the elf's bones. The pine trees were nearly barren, save for a few bristles near the top that lent a howl to the air. The darkness wrapped it's cold arms around her body and eyes, preventing even her elven eyes from seeing almost anything. The scant luminescence given by the stars was only able to outline the tree tops and occasional large rock. Listening closely, Neona could hear the night come to life over the gusting winds. Deer were foraging in a near by clearing, a fox or two were hiding in a bush watching her intently, and a nightingale trilled its seemingly random song a fair distance away. Neona lay on her side, the rocks and rough ground cut into her ribs, but it was the most comfortable spot she could find. She was hiding under a large tree that was partially uprooted ages ago. The large, gnarled roots hid her from view. Her belly grumbled angrily with hunger and whole body ached with pains. Scratched and bruised from pushing her body to run at its limits for days on end, she was also wore a deep gash down her side that would bleed should she move too much. That particular gash was awarded to her not a day before by one of the werewolf hunters who had been tailing her since she left Cyrodiil.<p>

How could this have happened...

shivering in the bitter cold, Neona's mind wandered off as she drifted the to warm lands of dreams and fond memories. And nightmares.

- ~ o ~ - ~ o ~ - ~ o ~ -

"Where are you, Pup? It's time for dinner!"

"Coming, MaMa!" Neona said, popping her head out of a pile of wrestling wolf pups. After wriggling out of the pile, the little Neona nearly flew over the uneven, root riddled ground and through the shrubs and trees back to the solitairy little cottage her small family lived in. After seeing her father out front chopping wood for the evening fire, Neona prepared her sneak attack. Crouching low amongst some shrubs, Neona stood silently, planning her attack. She moved with the sound of her father splitting the wood, and went straight for the knees.

Neona yelled out her war cry a second before she made her mark, "Daddy!" she was able to make the man loose his balance, and ultimately fall on his rear, clutching the little bosmer child to his chest. A perfect take down.

"Hey, sweety!" the bosmer said after getting the little elf in a choke hold, noogy-ing her over the head before blowing air into her cheek. The little Neona squirmed and let out high pitched squeals of glee. After a few moments of fruitlessly trying to free herself, The little elf went limp in the bosmer's grasp.

"Oh no!" the man feigned a surprised gasp, laying the limp, bosmer child on the ground and put his head to her chest to check a heart beat "what have I done!"

"You've fallen into my trap!" she said, clinging to his head, placing her small hands over his eyes, and wrapping her tiny legs around the mans neck.

"Argh!" he said, standing up with her on his shoulders and waving his arms in front of him blindly.

"What am I going to do with you two?" a beautiful, female bosmer chuckled. She stood in the doorway to the small house, watching the entire scene.

"keep us and hope for the best!" the little bosmer child piped in enthusiastically. Her parents laughed.

"Come, it's time to eat." the woman said. The man walked inside the little house after placing a kiss on his wife's cheek. Neona was still on his shoulders, he and placed her down in one of the chairs around the small dining table.

it was a simple life, but the only one Neona knew. She didn't give it a second thought that she could play with wolves, or that her parents would transform when the moon was full. Although she had yet to make her first transformation, Neona thought that it was perfectly natural. She had lived a very secluded life when she was young, so she did not question a thing. After dinner was done and bellies were filled, Neona's energy was out and she went to bed in a small balcony upstairs. Her parents sat by the fire. A tense silence lingered in the room, offset only by the cackle of the flames and distant howls of wolves.

"She has to know, Love. We can't keep the truth from her, what if something happens?"

"She is too young, dear... She wouldn't understand what it means."

"She understands more than you know, she is getting smarter every day. She can't transform until she reaches maturity, but there are things that people are bound to notice. If we are not there to protect her..."

"Alright, alright. We will have to do it slowly, I don't want to scare her. Tomorrow well show her, alright darling?"

"Alright." a few moments passed. The man sat smoking a pipe, and the woman sat fletching arrows nervously.

"Honey?"

"Yes dear?"

"What would you say to giving our Neona a little sibling to play with?" she said, putting the arrow down and looking nervously at her feet.

"I was actually thinking the same thing, lately. Neona needs a friend to play with other than wolves and trees." the man spoke, pulling one last drag from his pipe. He looked over to his wife and locked gazes, when she stayed looking lovingly to her husband, he knew.

"No. You're...?" she nodded. The man smiled from ear to ear, picking his wife up lovingly, leading her to their bedroom.

After an evening of heated passion, the man woke with a start. He had heard something outside. His wife heard it as well, for she also stirred. After putting on a pair of pants, the father bosmer walked silently down the stairs, picking up a steep sword on his way down. His wife followed closely in a robe and held a notched long bow in her hands. The chilled night air greeted them outside as both listened for where the noises originated. At first there was nothing. Moments later an arrow whistled passed the mans ear, without hesitation, the female bosmer sent her arrow in the same direction, a satisfying thud followed by a scream of agony followed as she made her mark. She smiled and elbowed her husband in satisfaction. It was then that dozens of torches lit in from of their cottage. Her smile faded into terror.

"Get Neona! Run!" he screamed.

"But-"

"Run!" his voice growled as the transformation began, he dropped his sword. His form distorted. The night was filled with pops and cracks as the mans bones and muscles warped and contorted and white hair manifested all over his body. The werewolf hunters closed in on the cottage, throwing their torches on the house and brandishing silver weapons.

The woman rushed upstairs and grabbed her daughter out from her bed and rushed to the rear entrance. The ceiling collapsed over the exit just a second after she made it out. Sprinting through the forest, the woman clutched her dreamy eyed child to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't even make it through the thick of the forest before an arrow found its way to the back of her heart. She fell, and Neona tumbled a short ways in front of her, now fully awake.

"Mam-"

"Run, Neona! Dont look back, just run!" her mom yelled at her. Neona obediently did as her mother commanded.

All she remembered of that day were flames and tears and trees. Lots and lots of trees.

- ~ o ~ -~ o ~ -~ o ~ -

Neona woke with a start. She's had that nightmare over and over again, lately. Probably because she was in the same situation. Again. Running for her life through the forest, to a land she knew nothing of. Yup, same situation. She sighed. The sun was just beginning to rise, it was time to move again.

Grabbing what little gear she had, Neona made her way in the direction of the rising sun towards the town of Riften. Little did she know she was walking towards the town of Thieves.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading the first chapter of The Nord and the Nightingale,<strong>

**In the next chapter, Neona arrives wounded at the town of Riften after a brief encounter with the werewolf hunters tracking her. Its there that she first encounters the thief Brynjolf.**


	2. Blood, Mud, and Gentle Hands

**Hello everyone!**

**I'd like to thank MayPlo, jillSTARS, and Jazz403 for leaving such kind reviews.**

**Without further adieu~**

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><p>The rush of the wind through her fur was quiet exhilarating, sprinting through the forest on all fours as fast as the wind itself, feeling such large lungs inside her inhale and exhale, was thrilling. In this form, the ever present feeling of... <em>Something else<em>, felt so much stronger. Dreamy tendrils would wrap themselves lovingly around her arms and legs, and lend her its strength. The wolf spirit with which she shared the same body was watching and protecting her, not unlike a guardian angel. Neona was lucky, being born as a werewolf meant that she was entrusted with a wolf spirit that was the same age as her when it was taken from the mortal world. As such, the spirit was never born, and curious about the world it was never able to see itself. It never had the chance to grow into a man eating beast. Instead it grew alongside Neona, sharing her emotions and experiences as she did.

The werewolf hunters had some of the best trackers Neona had ever encountered, if it wasn't her that they tracked, she would have been impressed. Even through rivers and lakes they were able to pick up her tracks, eventually catching up to her in the small hours of the morning. Neona had stopped at a stream for some water and a rest. Physically and mentally exhausted after running for days on end, she didn't hear as they surrounded her in dark mist that cloaked the ground. Neona realized what was happening a moment too late. The whistle of an incoming arrow broke the morning silence, followed by the dull thud of it piercing her flesh. Neona let out a thunderous roar of agony. The searing pain traveled the length of her body instantaneously. The arrow was silver tipped. She reached over her shoulder with one monstrous claw and pulled the arrow out of her back. Luckily, it scratched her shoulder blade, but the silvers poisonous effects would still take hold over her.

Neona could feel the anger from the wolf spirit swell within her wolven, muscular frame. Her eyes darted around in the darkness, searching for a target when torches lit simultaneously all around her. She was surrounded, exactly like those many years ago. Without hesitation, Neona leaped for the nearest man. Using her full force, she knocked the man down, and with her teeth she bit deeply into the mans neck and ripped out the tender flesh within. Blood splattered over her fur on her face and the man's body went limp, his head hung sickeningly as the tendons holding it in place were severed. The sweet, metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. It irked her to think she actually enjoyed the taste.

Shimmering twangs from multiple blades being unsheathed rang out in the darkness around her. There were at least a dozen hunters here, counting the torches and swords. Probably more wielding bows, the odds were stacked against her, she had to escape. Neona began to sprint on all fours, slicing the first man with one swipe of her massive claws. Another man behind the first took a swing at her with his silver blade. Neona jumped on her hind legs and caught the blade in her palm, she avoided a critical strike to her neck but the blade still sliced into her flesh, delivering the silver into her system. For a split second, she looked into the mans eyes and drank in his terror before she thrust her other claw through the mans chest and pulled his still-beating heart from his chest. Throwing the man to the side, Neona sprinted through the small opening she had created and ran as fast as she could away from the howling, angered crowd of werewolf hunters.

Even though the scuffle was short, lasting less then a minute, Neona had been wounded. Not critically, but enough to slow her down significantly. A long gash from her shoulder to her elbow, the piercing from the arrow in her back, and the slice in her palm. The silver in the weapons that sliced her skin acted as a slow acting poison as well, a steady paralytic that would make its way to her heart before stopping it completely. Her arm felt the tingles as it fell asleep, making it more and more difficult to run. Still, she pressed on. She did not want to lead the hunters to her destination, so she traveled in massive zigzags, making several transformations along the way to lead them off her tracks.

Finally after running for another full day and most of the night, she could see the walls of the Riften hold through the trees. Relief swelled within her as she made her final transformation to her bosmer form. She walked over to a near by stream to make sure she would at least not attract many stares. Not that she cared much for appearances, but there was a bare minimum that had to be kept. Having her hair and entire body caked in mud, dried blood coating her face and hands would probably give her some unwanted attention.

Neona grabbed an almost used up bar of soap from her pack and stepped into the icy cold water down to her waist. She bit her lower lip as the frozen liquid cooled her overheating skin. The water stung her wounds, but the cold of the stream would help to slow the silver's progress as well as take a few of the larger fragments from wounds. Taking a moment for her body to get used to the cold, Neona worked on getting the mud off her skin. After some time of scrubbing and scratching, she was finally able to see her lightly tanned skin again. Now its time to work out that slop from her hair. Doing that took a great deal more time, but eventually she had gotten all the muck out of her raven-black tresses.

Pulling some cloths from the nap sack she had slung over her shoulder, Neona quickly got dressed behind some bushes. Donning a loose fitting bear fur that hung loosely over one shoulder, she made sure that her wounded shoulder was exposed to the air and not be irritated by rubbing against the fur. After putting on a pair of knee length boots and elbow length gloves, she made her way into the town.

Upon entering the town, Neona was met with the fall type reds, oranges, and yellow colors in the shrubbery that lined the buildings. The buildings themselves contrasted quiet strangely with the plants, the grey stone seemed dead against the vivid color of the flora, as well as quiet aged, probably having stood in their stone foundations for generations. What really caught Neona's eye was the stream that was carved in the very center of the town one floor below, and wooden bridges connected one part of the town to the other. Walking towards the railing and saw doors lining the underside of the stone. There were buildings upon buildings, how peculiar. Mountains clothed in cloud coats hung over the horizon, the sun cast its beautiful rays over the crevasses of the peaks. Suddenly, the pain from the silver wounds erupted in her arm. It was as if she was being burned from the inside. Despite being a quarter inch deep, they didn't even bleed. But they burned like _hell_. Neona took a deep breath and continued walking.

Neona's stomach growled angrily in her belly, and she realized she had no coin to buy food. Though, that was of little consequence to her. Growing up on the streets, she knew how to get by. Out of the corner of her eye, Neona spotted a well dressed, somewhat aged woman with her hair nicely pulled back. That would be her target. Neona began walking leisurely in her direction, keeping her eyes directed at the mountain scenery when she bumped into the woman.

"I'm terribly sorry, ma'am. Excuse me." the bosmer said, politely bowing her head towards the woman.

"Excuse you, indeed." the woman barked, "watch where your going." she eyed her menacingly up and down before walking away.

Neona walked in the direction of a meat vendor near by, "_Excuse you, indeed._" she mimicked the woman's tone. "My ass... at least i relieved you of this." Neona smirked as she tossed a rather weighty coin purse in her hand before pocketing her treasure.

The vendor she approached was a dunmer, the scent wafting from her cart made her belly rumble even louder.

"Heh heh, I see you've come to the right place." the dunmer spoke upon hearing the noise from Neona's belly. "I have the freshest foods in all of Skyrim, is there anything i can get for you?"

Neona's mouth watered at the sight of all the food, though she was unsure what some things were. In the end, she ended up purchasing some horker meat, which tasted similar to venison, but much chewier. She took her much needed meal over to a giant well and sat on a box near its edge. Neona scarfed down the horker meat all too quickly, without cooking it. That was a clumsy move on her part, but she was too hungry to think. Sighing contentedly, Neona began licking the last bits of delicious horker off her fingers.

"My my, lass. From the speed that you ate that horker chop, one might think they haven't fed you in weeks." a deep voice thick with a Nordic accent spoke. Neona jumped at the new comer. "My apologies, lass. I didn't mean to startle you."

The bosmer said nothing, she inched away from the man and stared suspiciously into his eyes.

"My name is Brynjolf, I own a small potion stand just over here." he said, motioning to a stand not five paces off, then smiled warmly to her "I noticed your quiet wounded. If you'd allow me, I would like to help."

Still keeping quiet, Neona's eyes dug deeply into the Nord's, watching for a reaction. In her past experience, an absolute stranger did not offer a kindness without expecting something in return. When the man's gaze did not falter, Neona nodded and followed the man to his stall. Brynjolf motioned for her to sit atop a barrel, which she perched herself on.

"I'm a novice at restoration magics, but i do know a trick or two that helps me to make a diagnosis." He said, rubbing his hands together and placed one gently over the gash in her arm. Neona cringed in pain. "Sorry, lass... sorry."

After a long pause, the mans brows furrowed. "Strange," he slowly moved his hand up her arm and across her back. "I've never seen anything like this before, lass. There's something slowly poisoning your system, but I could not detect any foreign substances other than some small traces of silver in your wounds."

Neona shifted nervously, "Perhaps it was just an enchanted weapon of some sort. I've got just the things to fix this right up." Neona sighed in relief as Brynjolf rustled through a knapsack at his side. He pulled a small bottle and a sealed cup. "Drink this, lass." he said, handing her the bottle. Neona downed the swill in one gulp, and soon regretted it. It tasted worse than sun baked swamp slime. "I was able to pull most of the silver fragments out, but some traces might still remain. This solution will dilute your blood to the point that whatever is poisoning you will no longer be toxic. What i have here is a topical concoction I developed myself. This will disinfect and seal the wounds. May I...?"

Brynjolf motioned for her elbow, but after a moments hesitation she held out her arm towards him.

"This is going to sting a little, Lass." he warned, before gently putting a gob of the goo on her arm. It did sting, but no where near as much as the silver had.

Neona watched as the man worked cream over her wounds. His hair was light brown and glinted red in the sunlight and it hung straight and was parted down the middle where it ran down to his shoulders. His skin was pale, except on his cheeks where it appeared he had been sun burned from standing by his stall for too long. His eyes where the same shade of light green as the bristles of a newly sprouted pine tree. His jaw line was covered in the light bristles of five o'clock shadow, and came to meet a fairly thin, but noticeable goatee that surrounded his mouth. His left cheek sported a scar, one that he had gotten long ago and never properly healed.

Jerking herself back into reality, Neona saw Brynjolf kneeling in front of her as he bandaged her hand, making sure that his movements were soft and gentle. He looked into her eyes when he was finished and pressed his lips softly over the top of her hand. She could do nothing to hide the red in her cheeks as she blushed, breaking the gaze to concentrate on the ever more fascinating left boot she wore.

"Thank you, Brynjolf." she stammered quickly.

"Oh ho! She speaks!" Brynjolf said enthusiastically, "and white might her name be?"

"My name is Neona." Her whole life she had to be wary of strangers, and keep an emotional distance from everybody she met, lest she stay in any given place for too long. It wouldn't be the first time she was chased out of town after she was suspected of being a Lycanthrope... or the first time someone stabbed her in the back. This man, though... He was something else, Neona couldn't quiet place it. He was too kind. Something was a miss, she could feel it.

"Neona, eh? That's a beautiful name." Brynjolf spoke, "Obviously your new to the Rift."

"I am, I arrived just this morning." Neona stated, squinting her eyes suspiciously at the Nord "how did you know?"

"That woman whose pocket you picked, she's Maven Black-Briar. Everybody here knows not to mess with her, she has ties with nearly all the shady dealings around, and is the very last person you'd want to cross in these lands."

"How did you-?" her tone rose in astonishment, almost anger, but he cut her off before she could utter another word.

"I make it my business to know, lass." he chuckled. She's got fire, I'll give her that. "And, if your up for it, I've got a plan that requires an extra set of hands. In my line of work, extra hands are well paid."

"Let me guess," Neona spoke, staring disgustedly at the man. She had encountered this type before. They'd do something nice for you, and expect you to jump under the sheets with them, or some other explicit favor. "If i refuse, you'll alert the guard and have me thrown in jail." she knew it. She knew there was a catch. There always is.

"No, never." the warm smile Brynjolf had been wearing their entire conversation thus far faded, and was replaced with a stern gaze through her eyes. Almost as if he was reassuring her of his honesty from a stare alone. For whatever reason, Neona felt guilty for her hasty jump to a conclusion. "The offer stands only if you choose to accept it."

"Hmm." she pondered the thought. A little extra coin would be nice. She needed to buy arrows to refill her quiver and had to pay to rent out a sharpening stone at a forge. Coming to her conclusion, she looked at her new companion with the hint of a sly smile across her face. "What exactly did you have in mind?"

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of The Nord and the Nightingale!<strong>

**In chapter 3, we skip ahead a little in time to the teams first big heist. Skills will be tested and Master and Apprentice will become closer than either of them anticipated.**


	3. Stolen Elephants

**Thank you for waiting for chapter 3, after several failed attempts, i was finally able to churn out another chapter. The good news is that i have mostly written several chapters ahead, so updates in this story will increase in frequency for a short while.**

**I'd like to give a special thanks to Kusivirta, who has beta read through this and a few future chapters already. She has really coached me as a writer and gave me really good advice and tips. Also I thank those of you who put the time into reading this story, in particular the individuals who have been kind enough to review my work. Valerianus in particular, as well as Fallon-Idalia and Lex. **

**Now that im passed the goo-y thank-you's... On to what you really came here for =P**

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><p>Brynjolf sighed into his tankard of mead.<p>

He had been in the guild since he was thirteen, and had seen the entire place cave in on itself. Sitting back on his stool by the bar, Brynjolf emptied his tankard of the last bit of mead and watched the repetitive motions as Vekel sweeped the floor. Neona walked silently into the Flaggon just then.

"So you're Brynjolf's new protege, eh?" Vekel looked up at her for a moment before returning his eyes to his work. "You don't look like much to me."

Neona walked past him and took a seat adjacent to the Nord. It was quiet late for anybody to be awake. The bar was usually empty this hour.

"I'm sorry," she began, holding up and jingling a coin purse. "I couldn't hear you over the noise of your money."

"Wha-" Vekel patted his pockets and vest. Sure enough his coin purse was missing. Neona handed him back his money and chuckled while he put the purse back in its place. "Obviously, appearances aren't everything. What can I get you, this one's on the house."

"Can I get a virgin Adam's Apple?"

"But that's just apple juice, then." Vekel said, giving her a curious look. Neona simply smiled in response. "One virgin Adam's Apple on the house."

She had proven to be a good investment. Though she was new to the guild, Neona was very well acquainted with the life of crime. Brynjolf wasn't quiet sure where she had picked up her skills, but one doesn't complete all the jobs she had done without a lick of trouble, and one definitely doesn't pick pocket a thieves guild merchant without getting caught. What Brynjolf was afraid of was that she might leave the guild. Neona didn't really talk to anybody. She'd listen and laugh, but she would never join a conversation. Neona would always sit atop a barrel at the edge of the merriment and keep to herself. Being such an asset to the guild, Brynjolf couldn't risk her just leaving. They needed her. In a little over one week alone she was able to bring in more money and recognition to the guild then they all could muster in a month. It was as if Lady Luck herself guided that elf's hand.

"Hello, Brynjolf." she spoke quietly, not even even lifting her eyes from her drink.

"Uh... Hello." he coughed, his mind returning to the confines of his head.

Neona sat in her chair, fidgeting with her tankard as the silence stretched between them.

"So..." Brynjolf began, breaking the awkward silence between them. "How do you like it in the guild so far?"

"I quite like it here, actually. Some of the guys are a bit rough around the edges, but they're all good guys, I think."

"You haven't had any trouble with them?"

"No, everybody's been really nice to me." she said, looking at Brynjolf with a shy grin.

Of course they would be nice to her, other than Vex and Tonilia, Neona was the only female in the guild. And Neona wasn't the type to crush your face in for looking at her the wrong way. She had attracted a fair amount of attention upon joining the guild. Not that anyone would voice there thoughts, mind you. One could sense that the focus of the male thieves was... reallocated. When she wasn't on a job, Neona would let her waist length, black tresses fall loosely and she would wear thing, tight fitting shirts with billowy, baggy pants. Her choice of casual attire showed off her distinctly elven frame. She wasn't quiet as gifted as the Nordic women in terms of endowments, but that did not detract from her beauty or hourglass figure. Like all of the bosmeri people, her legs were lengthened as a result of evolution to aid the wood elves traverse through the thick jungles and forests of her homeland. The rear view also caught the eye of a number of Nordic onlookers. To them, she was an exotic beauty.

Neona turned in the stool and glanced around at rest of the Flaggon. The large, shallow pool in the center stood stagnant. The stone walls wore a perpetual film of dew and slime that was colored different combinations of green, brown and black. The wooden planks that made up the dining area of the Flaggen was the only thing really that was in good shape, mostly due to it being hazardous to the drunken patrons as they leave so the thieves would pitch in whenever the flooring needed repair.

"Why did you join the thieves guild, Brynjolf?" she asked, finally breaking the looming silence. Her large, almond eyes cast an inquisitive look at the Nord.

"Well," he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I had grown up in Riften, in the orphanage run by a haggard and sour old woman. I hated the place so much that i ran away when i was about ten years old. I had been caught stealing food from the market when Gallus, the old guild leader, paid my meal and took me in. He is the one that taught Vex, Delvin and myself the shadow's craft."

He had heard recently that the old buzzard met her demise at the sharp end of a dagger. Not that Brynjolf would speak ill of the dead, but he was sure those at her funeral were short in number.

Neona opened her mouth to ask another question before Brynjolf cut her off.

"Nope, its my turn."

Neona smiled. "Okay, shoot."

"Where did you learn the trade? You're very good."

"I've picked up different tricks from here and there, but I started out in my home land of Vallenwood," she began, "As long as I've remembered, I've had to steal to stay alive. At first, at least. Now its really all know. My first memories are of when I had encountered a group of thieves that called themselves the Twilight Mist. The leader was a young man named Lucas, he couldn't have been older than eighteen. He had formed a small band of orphan thieves. They took me in and taught me the trade."

"Skyrim is a long way from Vallenwood, what made yo-Hey!" Brynjolf's words were halted by an elbow to the ribs. He chuckled, "Sorry Lass, I forgot. Your turn."

"What is..." she paused a moment, trying to think of a good one, "the largest thing you've ever stolen?"

"The largest thing I've ever stolen," he repeated, mulling it over. "A golden statue of Akatosh the height of my arm. You?"

"The Mane of the Khajiit is the spiritual leader of his people." she explained, an air of pride and impish grin to her words. "I... requisitioned prized pet elephant."

"What?" he turned to look at her suddenly. "How did you do that?"

"It's a long story," she chuckled. "Still want to listen?"

"I would love nothing better."

The two spoke and laughed together the rest of the night until the sun pressed itself over the horizon.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading Chapter 3 in The Nord and the Nightingale.<strong>

**Reviews are always appreciated. **

**If your looking for a laugh concerning Skyrim, youtube "The good, the bad, and the dovakhiin" its the first link. Your bound to lol your socks off.**


	4. Shit Happens

**Sorry for the wait, but im pretty sure you'll forgive me for that. This chapter came out pretty good, i think.**

**Thank you to all the kind people who have reviewed for me so far, as well as the-lovecat for beta'ing this chapter for me.**

**Enjoy~**

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><p>The night breeze was chilly, but calm with soft gusts every now and again. Neona sat atop the tallest pine tree she could find in the area within viewing distance of White Runs prison. Hanging precariously, she had been observing the comings and goings of the guards in the area, trying to find a weakness or flaw in its security. After days of scouting, and hours of sitting in this god forsaken tree, she realized there was no flaw. No holes in the walls or secret entrances. White run prison was impregnable. However, she had learned among the Khajiit in Elyswer that sometimes the best way in is that which is most obvious, the front door.<p>

This all began just a few nights ago. Garthar, the newest thief in the guild, was sent on a job in White Run to case the shop of the blacksmith, and return with as much goods as possible. Neona was partnered with him to be a lookout and guide him on proper techniques. She wasn't sure what qualified him for guild status. The man's skull was thicker than lead, though he had muscle, a light touch and he had no problem doing as he was told.

Garthar was doing well on his first sweep run. After securing the most valuable blades and weapons he could find in the shop, he headed upstairs for the lock box. Neona was impressed; the Nord was able to open the box in little under two minutes. Usually, new thieves could take anywhere between three to five minutes to pick a lock, if they could at all. After emptying the lock box of its contents, Garthar made his way to the bedroom while Neona clung to the shadows downstairs. She had lost her visual contact with the Nord once he stepped inside the bed room. A few moments after, she had heard a loud sneeze in the bed room followed by the startled rousings of the occupants and a loud crash.

"Guards!" A deep voice shouted, followed by the crashing footfalls of someone racing down the stairs. Neona was just able to to slip into the shadows and out the back door when one of the guards rushed inside. Crouching beneath the impenetrable shadow cast by the wall that surrounded the town, the bosmer watched as her companion was dragged unconscious to the hold's prison.

"Oi! What do you think your doing up there?"

"Wah-!" Neona screeched in sudden fright followed by the breaking of several branches and a slew of rather colorful profanities.

"I think you scared her, brother." the larger of the two Nords spoke. His brother simply gave him a sideways look. _Damn it._ Neona had been so engrossed in thought that she had not noticed them sneaking up on her. She stood up with a slight limp and brushed herself off, curses still painting her lips.

"She cant possibly be the one we're looking for," the smaller brother spoke, sniffing at the air. "The winds have been inconsistent this day. Come, Farkas. We do not have time to dawdle with common folk."

The two Nords went in the direction of the forest, past the hills. Neona stared wide eyed in the direction, dumb founded for a moment before shaking the look of stupidity off her face.

"_We don't have time to dawdle with the __**common **__folk._" she repeated in a high pitched mock tone. Neona kicked the dirt at her feet. That's when she heard the all too familiar sound if rips, cracks and popping of bones relocating from the direction the two traveled. Her mind went blank.

… _Shit._

Neona sprinted for the gates of White Run. The sun was setting. She would go in, get what she came for, then get out. She already had a plan to break Garthar out of jail. Hopefully this new development would not interfere with her plans.

The bosmer thief made her way to a particular dark ally. Skulking in the shadows, she waited for her target to arrive. Neona had observed a night shift female guard that would slink away from her post for a few minutes for her fix of skooma. This woman would be her 'key' inside...Well, at least her clothes would be.

When the elf saw the shadow of the guard approaching, she reached in her pack for a handkerchief. She had laced the fabric with a powerful sleeping agent that would knock out the woman for a few hours. Far more time than she would need.

Crouching low, she approached the guard silently from behind, readying her strike. In one fluid motion, Neona wrapped one arm around the guards neck, preventing any sound from escaping her lips. Her other arm pressed the cloth to her nose and mouth, forcing the woman to inhale the innocuous fumes. She only struggled for a moment before her body slumped to the floor. Dragging the body into the shadows, Neona began the arduous task of undressing her.

The guard had gone down easily enough. After fussing with the straps of the buckles in the side of the chest piece for what seemed like ages, she was finally clad in the uncomfortably heavy armour of the White Run guards.

After making her way back to the prison, Neona approached the guard that sat behind a desk. This was the important one, the man she would have to convince. She took a deep breath, now was the hard part.

"Sir!" she barked, lifting her shield to her chest. A formality she observed among the guards to their superiors.

"Skip the formalities, grunt." the prison guard spoke, not even lifting his eyes from his papers. "Speak."

"A writ has arrived from Markarth. The prisoner, Garthar, is to be taken to their silver mines to serve a life sentence for fifteen counts of first-degree murder, fifty-seven counts of theft, three counts of rape, and seven for sexual assault." this apparently caught the man's attention. He stood up slowly and walked around his desk, stopping just inches from Neona's face. Outwardly she was calm, her breathing was level, and she stared the man down from behind her helmet. Inwardly, she was shitting bricks.

"Is that so... Usually they send at least three _men _to escort high profile prisoners. You don't even look like you can fight off a lame bandit." The man was about to push Neona's shoulder. Wrong move.

Neona grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it around his back while slamming his face against the table. "They sent _me_ because I used to be a bounty hunter for the Imperial order. They sent _me_ because I used to chase down these scum for a _living_. And I would appreciate if my capacity for _doing my job_ was not questioned by men half the size as those I have pursued." she hissed the words in his ear before releasing him.

"H-how dare you assault a superior officer!" he yelled, his voice and eyes seething in anger. "You will be reported, and you _will_ be dealt with accordingly."

"If you want to put in your report that a woman half your weight put you down, that is fine by me." Neona could see the flames of hell burning within this man's eyes. His frame shook with rage.

"Get out of my sight!" the man bellowed

"My prisoner?" Neona placed a hand on her hips.

"Here," the man spoke through his teeth, slamming the key on his desk. "Take him and go."

Snatching the keys, she made her way into the other room to Garthar's cell. The man sat in the corner of his cell, beaten and bruised. It looked like the guards had gotten bored after he had gotten arrested and decided to use Garthar as a punching bag. Neona took a deep breath, she almost had him out.

"Get up." she spoke, her voice was low, cold and unfeeling. Without uttering a word, the man stood with a limp. Neona winced as she unlocked the door. She had to keep up appearances a while longer.

"Move." the elf motioned towards the door in the front of the room.

"You're a little short to be a guard." Garthar's voice cracked, and despite cuffed wrists and a swollen eye, a crooked smile appeared on his face.

"I said move!" she kicked the Nord in the back, making him almost fall forward on his face. She followed Garthar as they made there way through the hold and out the front gate. Neona sighed audibly. Now all they had to do was make their way to the thick of the woods and they were in the clear. They had almost made their way into the safety of the trees when Neona heard the familiar noise of pops and cracks reverberate through the forest, followed by the sound of large paws running over the ground at full speed.

"Awe shit... Comon!" Neona exasperated.

"Neon-" was all Garthar was able to say before the bosmer put a sharp upper cut in his jaw, sufficiently knocking the Nord out. Neona began her own transformation, the sharp pains of her bones and muscles reforming themselves washed over her quickly. She grabbed Garther's arms and and wrapped them around her neck, his restraints keeping him in place as she swung his unconscious body over her back. His muscled mass was heavy, he'd slow her down.

Her clawed paws almost flew over the uneven ground. She pushed herself to her limits, but with the weight of her companion on her back, Neona just wasn't fast enough. The other two werewolves had flanked her and were circling her menacingly. Baring her teeth, she growled and roared, trying to intimidate them and run them off. Quite obviously, that didn't work.

One of the wolves tried approaching her, but she swiped him away with a wide sweep of her claws. She wasn't going to let them take Garthar. The other werewolf roared and jumped for her, but Neona side stepped and he crashed into a tree. Her eyes jumped between the two wolves as she lifted Garthar off her shoulders and laid him on the ground behind a tree. She took a deep breath and flexed her claws, waiting for them to make the first move.

The larger of the two werewolves ran at her again, this time tackling her to the floor. She was able to roll with the force of his tackle so that she was on top, and elbowed him hard in the face. She could hear the pop of a dislocated jaw along with the pained wails of an injured wolf. The other werewolf wrapped a large, furred arm around her neck and lifted her off the ground. Neona gasped futilely for air, clawing at the massive fore arm constricting her wind pipe and cut at the flesh with her claws. His grip loosened and Neona was able to slip free, stumbling forward as she clutched at her throat. That's when she felt the searing pain of claws ripping the muscle tissue in her shoulder. Roaring in pain, she was kicked in the stomach and tossed on her side. Neona's vision was blurred by pain and she could taste the iron of her own blood.

The two werewolves stood over her, the larger one snapping his jaw back into place as his brother gripped her around the neck and lifted her off her feet. Teeth bared, he roared angrily in her face, wolven spittle splattering out. Neona's vision was dimming as her mind slipped into unconsciousness when she felt the warming presence of _something else_ within her veins. With a final burst of strength, Neona curled her waist and wrapped a dexterous leg around the wolf's arm. Clenching the muscles in her leg, she broke his arm. The scream that emanated from his jowls rung in her ears as black spots from the lack of oxygen clouded her vision. Enraged, the larger wolf kicked her in the chest, making her fly back and crashed into a tree. Neona picked herself up, resting her weight on her palms. Blood dripped from her teeth.

The large wolf kicked her again so that she flipped over onto her back, this time placing his foot on her neck. Neona could see the anger in his eyes, but she wasn't sure why he didn't take the killing blow. She did not care. She brought both her claws over her head and crashed them down over the werewolf's knee, breaking it.

With both werewolves finally incapacitated, she made her way back to Garthar.

"Hngh-" he muttered, before having a wolven punch-to-the-face. The Nord slumped back in an unconscious heap.

She lifted him onto her back as she made her way back to the guild in Riften.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading Chapter Four of The Nord and the Nightingale<strong>

**I hope you've enjoyed reading. Reviews are appreciated!**

**Sorry for the lack of Brynjolf3 in this chapter. I'll make it up to you in the next one.**

**In chapter five, Neona returns to the guild only to butt heads with the guild leader, Mercer Frey. **


	5. An Interesting Recovery

**Today, a speshul thank-you goes to the-lovecat and Kusivirta for beta'ing through this. **

**Though... was something wrong with chapter 4? Usually i get more feedback on chapters than what i had gotten for that one. The story stats says you guys are reading it, but if there's something you think is wrong, please let me know.**

**Also, i know that i said i'd include more in this chapter... But, that just didnt happen.**

**Anyway~**

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><p>A thieving job usually takes anywhere from a few hours to three days to complete, depending on how far out the job was. Even if the job was out in Markarth, it would only take three days to get there, do the job, and return. A bedlam job like Garthar's should not have taken more than two days, especially with Neona showing him the ropes. Now that the sun was setting on their fifth day out, it would be safe to assume the worst.<p>

Brynjolf punched the stone in the cliff. This was the reason why a thief does not get emotionally attached to another thief. Things can go irreversibly wrong in the blink of an eye, it was the nature of their craft. So much of it relied on sheer luck that sometimes, no matter how skilled, the thief just gets caught or killed. Brynjolf had seen first hand countless thieves who had tried to flee, only to get an arrow in the back. Even the seemingly unbreakable bond between Brynjolf's former master and Karliah was bested by Karliah's love for coin. The very trait that fueled their influx of coin, greed, was powerful enough to destroy the bond that those two shared.

Despite all this, Brynjolf couldn't help but stand out in cold and wait for Neona to return. He was unable to sleep the past three nights, worry had kept him awake. Roaring in the night, Brynjolf punched at the stone again, letting the blood flow freely from his knuckles and cursing himself for developing feelings for the wood elf.

_How could I be so foolish. I should know better than this..._

That's when Brynjolf caught the glimpse of someone limping through the trees. He placed his hands instinctively on his daggers as the shadows approached. Brynjolf's heart nearly jumped into his throat at the sight of Garthar and Neona.

"Garthar! Neona!" Brynjolf shouted through the trees, jogging over to them, " I'm so relieved to see you safe-" his words were cut off when he saw the state of Neona's broken body. Deep claw marks carved their way from her shoulder all the way down to her hips, exposing bones and muscle tissue. Blood dripped from her wounds and her mouth. Her entire frame shook, her eyes lit up to see him from under heavy, half open lids. Her arm was wrapped around Garthar's neck for support.

_No..._ Brynjolf's mind ground to a halt. _No, no no no NO! This can't be happening, this isn't real. This is a horrible nightmare from lack of sleep. NO!_

"Brynj-" she whimpered. Neona released Garthar to stand on her own. She would have fallen to the floor if Brynjolf hadn't caught her.

"Hush, lass." Brynjolf's voice shook as her blood dripped between his fingers. He picking the elf up in his arms, trying to keep his voice calm and level. "You've been badly injured, y-you're loosing a lot of blood."

"Put... Me down." the elf spoke between gurgled gasps, fighting weakly in his grasp.

"I'll tell you what, lass." his voice cracked, fighting back the tears that threatened to pour down his face. He struggled to keep an assuring smile. "If you can free yourself, you're free to go. If not, y-you have to keep quiet and save your strength." to that, she gave a defeated huff and nestled herself closer to Brynjolf's chest. After her frame stopped shaking from the cold, she fell unconscious in his arms. He held her tighter, tears trailing down his cheeks.

"What happened, Garthar?" Brynjolf nearly barked, jogging towards the gates of the town. Up to this point, the lumbering recruit had stood silent. Garthar looked like he had a bad encounter with a large boulder, bruises coated most of his arms and legs. More surely hid under the ragged cloths that he wore, and blood dripped down his hands from the restraints that cut into his wrists.

"Actually, I'm not entirely sure. Neona said that I had eaten a hallucina-something herb that made me unconscious for a long time. I asked her the same question after I came-to, she told me bears attacked."

"Bears..." He repeated as the two rushed her back into town, avoiding the prolonged stares of the guards.

When Brynjolf and Garthar had gotten her to the Cistern and out of the cold, her body began to burn up; a sign of severe blood loss. He was scared that she had lost too much blood to bring her back, but after putting a few cold horker chops to her skin to cool off her fever and giving her a draft to slow her heart rate and increase blood production rate.

It had taken all night and the better part of the morning to patch Neona up. Brynjolf had poured most of his potion stock into the little wood elf. Mud, muck and dirt had caked themselves into her wounds. One of her three broken ribs had punctured a hole in her lung. It was only by the grace of the gods that the puncture was small. Stretching his restorative knowledge to its limit, and downing several of his largest flasks of Mana potion, Brynjolf was able to sear the puncture hole shut. It took the Nord a fair amount of time to scry through her lungs to find the exact point of the puncture, and even longer to channel the heat through her skin without damaging the surrounding tissue. Brynjolf bit his lip so hard that he drew blood. It was easier to summon a large fireball than do this. At least then it was a full release of magicka, rather than trying to focus that raw power into an area the size of a finger tip.

After her wounds were cleaned and sealed, Neona began to heal extraordinarily quickly. Faster than should have been possible. Brynjolf sat back in his chair, sweat dripped down his brow. With the back of his hand, he whipped the blood that dripped down his chin.

_With the amount of blood that she's lost, she should be dead. _Brynjolf thought, sighing deeply. _And these marks... They're too wide to be from any bear around here._

"Is she going to be okay?" Rune asked. After waking up to see that their sister-in-crime had returned to the Cistern, most of the guild had crowded at the foot of Neona's bed to await news of her recovery. Garthar had returned with a few flowers. _Well, what's something you give a girl? Flowers, right?_ he had said. The rest of them decided it would be a good idea to go pick a few as well.

"Aye, she'll be alright. I gave her a sedative when I got her down here. She should stay sleeping most of the da-" Brynjolf's words were cut off by the stirring of the groaning elf.

"Hnnngh..." she said, rubbing her eyes open. A moment passed before she roared, clutching her side in pain. "I hurts!_ I hurts_! The pain I feels in the side!"

"Here, lass. Drink this." Brynjolf said, holding out a vial for the wood elf. She snatched it up immediately and downed the draft in one swig. Neona's face scrunched as if she had eaten something sour, and she smacked her lips in distaste. Neona continued to writhe and scream for a few moments, then sighed as the pain subsided; head lolling to the side

"Bryn-ja... Bryn-joo..." Neona seemed to fumble with the words, "Bryn-jee Boo! I missed you, its been _sooo_ long! Why's the room so colorful? Did you guys'es do decoratings? "

"Uh..."

"I feel funny." Neona said with a pout on her lip before she held her head in her hands. "My head feels fuzzy. I can't thinks straight."

"Brynjolf, is she going to be okay?" Cynric asked. Neona sat in her cot and looked wide eyed around the room.

"She shouldn't even be awake. I'm not sure what's going on with the lass." Brynjolf replied, as he looked at her incredulously.

"You bringed me flowers?" Neona looked in awe at the crowd gathered in front of her bed, pupils fully dilated. "D'awe... You's such nice guys. I loves you's guys."

"She could be having an adverse reaction to the sedative, though I have no idea why." Brynjolf said to himself and leaned back in his chair.

"Bryn-jee _Boooo._ Why yous not lookings so..." she paused and sighed deeply, looking for the right words. "so good? My favs-rit shouldn't be looking so not good."

"You gave us quite the scare, lass." he chuckled. "You had us all very worried."

"You was worried for me?" Tears began to well in her eyes, "No one ever worrieds for me."

"N-no no, don't cry! " Brynjolf held his hands up, as if he could stop the oncoming rain of tears the same way as one might catch a punch. "You might bleed out if your heart rate gets too high!"

That did nothing to stop her steady sobs. Neona hid her face in her hands as her small frame began to shake from hyperventilation. That's when the most unlikely member from the crowd stepped forward.

Thrynn placed three Dragons Tongue blossoms at the foot of Neona's bed. He stepped forward and knelt down, holding a hand over hers.

"Neona." Thrynn spoke softly in the elf's ear. "We all care for you, Neona. But you can't cry, you know why?"

Blinking away the tears in her eyes, Neona sniffled, "Why?"

"Because that will make us all sad, and you don't want us to be sad, right?" The teary eyed wood elf shook her head slowly. Thrynn patted her head "Good, now shut your eyes. It's time for some rest." Neona nodded her head and turned over quietly, falling asleep almost immediately.

Thrynn was met with raised eyebrows and sideways looks when he returned to the congregation at the foot of the bed.

"How do you think I bedded four women on the same night? Sweet talking, lads. Learn from the Master." he said, walking past them towards the Flagon. A moment of silence passed as the thieves placed the flowers in and around the stand by her bed.

"Let's go, you Louts. Let the lass get some sleep." Brynjolf spoke softly as the crowd made their way towards the Flagon. He knelt at her bed side, placing a tender kiss on her forehead before joining the others. Niruin lagged behind the rest, waiting for Brynjolf to catch up.

"Hey Bryn-jee Boo!" Niruin said in an attempted high pitched girly voice, making kissy faces in Brynjolf's direction. He elbowed Brynjolf in the side before he received a hard punch in the shoulder, which almost made him trip into the central pit of sewer water.

"Don't call me that." Brynjolf said in a flat, annoyed tone.

"But why _not_, Bryn-jee Boo!" Niruin teased, "Neona gets to, but I-" The sound of a male wood elf splashing face first into the center pool reverberated through the room. With a huff and crack of his knuckles, Brynjolf continued towards the Flagon to join with the others.

"Brynjolf." Delvin leaned against the wall next to the door to the Flagon. "The boss wants to have a word our Neona. And he ain't happy."

"Why has he taken such an interest in her all of a sudden?" Brynjolf said, more of a statement rather than a question. Both of the thieves turned to look over at the sleeping wood elf slumbering sounder than a rock at the bottom of a calm sea.

Very rarely would Mercer be seen in the Cistern, and when he was he would usually be carrying around papers or skulking in the shadows. As far as Bynjolf knew, Mercer spent most of his time in the confines of his house, pouring over and developing plans for future heists. Or so he claimed, at least. Neona had stirred things up in the guild, and for whatever reason, Mercer did not like it.

"I haven't seen him this railed up since, well... Ever." Delvin sighed deeply. "Things won't be so pretty next time that girl's awake."

"Aye..." Brynjolf sighed, shaking his head. He wanted to protect her, shield her from the shit storm that he knew Mercer had in store for her. With one last glance in Neona's direction, he disappeared through the secret passage that lead to the Cistern.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading chapter 5 of The Nord and the Nightingale<strong>

**In the next chapter, Mercer shows his face and butts heads with Neona. After the encounter, she flee's to the woods where Brynjolf tries to calm her down. **


	6. Memoirs of Agony

**Hello, and thank you for coming this far in The Nord and the Nightingale!**

**I apologize for not having posted anything in a little over a week, i had finals, work... and just life in general. **

**Anyways, i'd like to thank the-lovecat for beta'ing through this for me! She's got a lovely Fanfic about the events that happen after the stormcloak quest line called Jagged Crown thats coming along quiet nicely. I'd highly suggest going to take a look down that road. **

**Someone asked if Neona's the Dovakiin anymore, (i changed the description on the story). She never fights a dragon, she never speaks dragon, and i doubt i'll even have dragons appear in this fanfic ever since i'm focusing on the thieves guild. So, i ended up just making her a plain old bosmer thief. I hope that doesnt disappoint you.**

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><p>The evening breeze bellowed fiercely through the branches of the gargantuan trees of Vallenwood. The leaves blocked out nearly all the light cast by the setting sun. Among the tree tops, a small band of bosmeri children ran among the branches. Silently they flew through the trees, even the shuddering of the leaves as their feet fell on the branches could not be heard over the tropical winds. The jewels drapped around their necks could be seen glinting in the moonlight onto the forest floor. The jingling of the treasures in their pockets was hardly perceptible unless one knew exactly what to listening for.<p>

They ran until the moon hung high in the night sky. Finally they reached their destination. From the branches, small lights Twilight Mist camp could be seen flickering against the darkness that engulfed the night. One by one, the thieves grabbed a particular patch of bark on the tree that was worn smooth, and slid all the way to the forest floor. Unfortunately, the orphans had to scrape by with all that was available. They simply couldn't adhere to the Green Pact when so much food was offered by the fruit trees surrounding them.

The small band of thieves were greeted by a tall, young man in his late teens or early twenties. He stood with his shoulder length, blond hair was tightly pulled back in a pony tail. His right eye sported a long scar stretching from a brow to his chin, and the eye in that socket held a perpetual, smokey cloud over the iris. His Left ear was torn off at the base and healed poorly, leaving a dreadful scar. He stood with dignity, though. Wearing the scars like badges of honor from battles long past. Draped over his shoulders was a tattered, black cape. He looked down his long nose at the five children before him.

One of the children stepped forward, lifting their hood. "The job went without a hitch, Lucas" Neona spoke, an air of pride in her tone.

Lucas stood stone faced for a moment, examining the group of five bosmer children before him. They were opening their bags and satchels to reveal their contents. Glistening rings, bracelets, and coins filled their pockets. His face softened into an approving smile.

"Good work, guys!" he said, holding his hand up to high five each of them. "This will keep our operation going for some time. You all must be hungry. Dinner's already done. Go relax and get something to eat."

Hooting and hollering, Neona and her team rushed towards the dining tent.

This was her life. Since she was four years old, she had been a part of the Twilight Mist. Lead by the notorious, Lucas the Coon. Neona had been a part of his rag-tag motley crew for almost nine years. Though, not always as a thief. True, thievery was what they were most known for, but above all else, the Twilight Mist was a family for those unfortunate enough to need one.

When the small band of thieves finished their meal, most of the camp had gone to sleep. Neona's companions were all tired, and yawned as they began making their way towards the sleeping hammocks.

"Guys, guys!" Neona called after them, she was still wired from the excitement of a good heist. "It's not that late, guys. Lets go play some tree ball."

"Nah, Neona. We have to be awake early tomorrow to pack up camp." one of her friends explained, "Besides, I'm beat from all that running."

"Bah, Irwin's no fun." Neona pouted, stomping her foot. "Khalil, Lieven, Feo-fil? What about yo-?" Neona paused suddenly, as if her very bones turned to cement.

The hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end as her gaze seemed to be forced to fixate on the moon. All the muscles in her body clenched as it felt like hot iron was being poured into her veins. Neona's mind felt as if _something-else_ was forced inside. She became painfully aware of its presence, could feel its emotions and thoughts as clearly as if they were her own.

"What? What's going on!" Lucas had heard her pained wails and sprinted to the scene. Neona knelt on the floor, her entire frame vibrating from some unknown force. Despite her pain, her eyes were wide open. Neona's gaze never shifted from the full moon.

Soon, a small crowd of orphans surrounded her. Unsure of what to do, they watched as Neona's form twitched and convulsed.

Neona could feel the fibers in her eyes rearranging themselves. It felt as if someone was ripping out the insides of her eyeball, and replacing it with hot coals. She could feel each micro fracture in her skeletal frame as her bones reformed themselves inside of her. It felt as if her skull was about to explode, and the rest of her body burned with such intense agony. Each strand of muscle tissue within her sent shocks of electricity straight to her brain as they gained mass alarmingly quickly. Neona could feel the hair follicles in the pores over her body get forcefully pulled as long strands of hair sprung from her skin. It felt as if someone was pulling her hair out chunks at a time.

_Pain... so much... pain. _

As quickly as it came, Neona's pain had receded. She could see clearer, hear farther, and pick out the individual scents in the air. Unfortunately, what she smelled was fear. Some of the younger children fled in terror, but most of those proficient with weaponry stayed to defend the little ones.

"Demon!" one of the children hissed, "Demon in bosmeri skin!"

"Demon!" the crowd echoed around her, the shimmering noise of swords being removed from their sheaths rang out in the night. "Kill the Demon!"

Neona tried to protest, but when she spoke, only a low growl emitted from her lips. She tried forming words, but her lips would not work properly and her tongue flailed around aimlessly in her mouth. Neona could hear the twang of a released arrow, but she couldn't move fast enough to avoid it.

She roared in agony, the children around her froze in fear for a moment before they ran at her with their weapons drawn. Neona searched around frantically, looking for a sympathetic gaze... or at least someone not brandishing a weapon at her, but found none. The _other-thing_ in her mind pressed against her own.

_Run_~

Without a seconds hesitation, Neona broke the shaft of the arrow buried in her chest, and bound through the crowd. Stumbling forward, Neona tripped as she passed the tree line surrounding the camp, unused to her new legs. The orphans ran towards her, swords swinging as she felt the _other-being_ within her snaked itself through her body. _It_ wrapped itself within her arms and legs and forced her limbs to move, making her sprint on all fours away from her home.

She ran for days.

_Neona~_

Tears ran down her wolven cheeks as she sprinted through the trees, the presence of the _other-being_ comforted her. It meant she wasn't entirely alone.

_Neona~_

She was never, truly alone. Not really.

_Neona~_

-x-x-x-

"Neona." came a familiar voice.

Neona shot up, panting heavily as her eyes darted around the room. The dim lighting illuminated the slime coated walls of the Cistern. It took her a moment to adjust to the new setting. At least here, she was among friends... for now. She turned to her left and saw Brynjolf sitting in a stool next to her bed, worry and concern furrowed his brow. After seeing his face, Neona couldn't help but shed tears. What she feared most was if history was bound to repeat itself.

"Shh, Lass." Brynjolf cooed, moving to sit at the edge of her cot to put an arm around the wood elf. "Every thing's alright, Lass. It was only a nightmare. Every thing's alright."

Neona said nothing, instead she turned towards Brynjolf and wrapped her good arm around his neck and dug her face into the base of his neck. He had been good to her. The whole guild had been. They had welcomed her into their fold with open arms, and asked no questions. She appreciated that. Each thief she met here had their own tendencies and quirks, but she called them all brother just the same. For a nomad who grew up without a family, that truly meant something to her.

As Neona was forced to run from one place to another, the emotional pain of loosing those she called 'friend' became an ever growing burden that became perpetually heavier to hold. Being alone in the wilderness with nothing but fond memories of days long past had a way of chipping at your heart, longing for them to return. Eventually, she had learned that it was best to simply separate herself emotionally from people. That way it wouldn't hurt as much when she had to leave.

But the guild... these men... Brynjolf. She was getting attached to them. She didn't want to leave. Not now, not ever. Brynjolf held her closely, one hand around her waist, the other stroking her long black hair. Being this close, Neona could feel his broad chest rise and fall as he breathed. She could feel the warmth as he exhaled on her neck which sent shivers down her spine. When she tried to move her other arm around him, a sharp pain jolted down her side and yelped in pain. Brynjolf pulled away from her immediately.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he said, glancing to her side. Brynjolf had put her arm in a wrap to prevent the scabs from cracking and bleeding if she moved too much. Neona turned her face away, trying to hide the reddening of her ears and cheeks.

"N-no, Brynjolf." she stammered, fidgeting with the covers over her bed. "I'm f-fine, I just... I-I just-" her stomach growled loudly, causing the two to stare in the direction from which the sound originated.

"You must be hungry, Lass." he chuckled, "You've been sleeping since yesterday morning. I'll bring something for you to eat."

_Despite his profession, he's always the perfect gentleman._ Neona thought.

"I'd like to go, If my caring physician would allow it." she nudged an elbow playfully into his side. "I'd like to see how every one's doing.."

"Alright lass," he chuckled, shifting away from her elbow. Brynjolf was ticklish there. "Come, I'll help you to the Flagon."

Neona couldn't help but smile. With her good arm she flung the covers off of her before realizing she was clothed in nothing but bandages around her chest and tattered pants. Not that bosmer were known for their... discretion, but it was cold and she wasn't sure how Nords would react. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brynjolf fumbling around quickly before handing her a clean shirt.

"You might want this," he said, placing the shirt on her bedside before turning away quickly. "You, uh. Might get more attention then you'd like without it."

Neona saw the side of his face turn cherry red. His light, nordic skin betrayed his embarrassment. Chuckling internally, she slipped the brown shirt over her head with some trouble. It was far too large for her, clearly it had been one of Brynjolf's. After she was presentable, Neona tried to get out of bed but when she put weight to her legs, she nearly fell over.

"Careful, Lass." Brynjolf said, catching her before her face met with the cold stone. "You pushed your body past its limit bringing Garthar back to us. Your muscles hate you for it."

He offered for her to lean on his arm, which she took, albeit hesitantly.

"T-thank you, Brynjolf." Neona whispered. She was letting her emotions get a hold of her. Brynjolf... he was getting too close. _If only things were different._

"Anything for you, Lass." He smiled warmly at her, holding the door open as they made their way into the Flagon. "Anything for y-"

"I see Brynjolf has brought our fair Thief-Princess back to us!" Niruin's voice could be heard over the jocularity of breakfast at the Flagon. Brynjolf placed two fingers under his eyes, then pointed threateningly in Niruins direction. Niruin responded by sticking his tongue out before returning to his mead and meal.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Neona!" Vex spoke up, her mouth still full of bread and cheese.

"Thanks guys!" her face brightened to see her family. Brynjolf guided her to the table where Vex and Delvin sat. "Missed me, did we?"

"We sure did, my dear." Delvin said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her as he scooted closer to her. Neona punched him playfully in the shoulder. Then Vex punched him... not so playfully in his other shoulder, and almost knocked him off his seat. "OW! What you do that for?"

"Shut up."

"Neona!" Garther called out, approaching the table. The read remnants of the bruises still coated most of his body, and his wrists were wrapped in bandages.

"Garthar! Wow, you've certainly seen better days." Neona replied jokingly as Garthar hooked an arm around her, making sure his hand rested on her good shoulder. A look of irritation crossed Brynjolf's face, but only for a moment.

"Haha, and thanks to you, I'll see many more. Vekel!" the lumbering Nord called to the inn keep. "Anything this fine young lady orders today is on me.

"D'awe, Garthar. You're too kind." the bosmer said, rocking in seat, feigning embarrassment.

"No, Neona." he said, his tone becoming more serious. "I'm a petty thief. You, my girl, are a diamond in the rough."

"That's all very cute, but the girl hasn't eaten in days. Let the lass be so she can have a good meal." The irritation in his voice was noticeable in his tone, but even that washed away from his features when she flashed him a playful smile. Brynjolf sighed and smirked at her in return. "Now eat, you'll need your strength. You've got a lot of recovering to do."

A sad smile crossed Neona's face. She looked around the room, everyone was talkative and animated. Well, except Cynric and Thrynn. They both seemed to be struggling with waking up in the morning and sat in the other corner of the Flagon. She fit in among the thieves in the guild, they had become her family.

These were good times. Unfortunately, all good times come to an end. They hurt like hell once they're over, and you'll _never_ get them back.

The raged stomps of someone approaching the Flagon from the Cistern could be heard in the bar, sufficiently halting the festivities. Suddenly, the door to the bar crashed open.

"NEONA!" came the irritate roar of the guild leader, Mercer Frey. "Get your elven ass in here _now_!"

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading chapter 6 of The Nord and the Nightingale!<strong>

**As always, critiques, comments, reviews are welcome. **

**I know that i said Mercer would be in this, and he kind of is... But again, the chapter ended up being longer than expected. I'm sure nobody minds, though =P**


	7. A Nightmare Begins

**First, I would like to apologize for how abhorrently long it took for me to post this chapter. As of late, i have encountered a life block. Like writers block, but much bigger. I also tried doing a rewrite of ch6, but that came out even worse than the original, so again... I apologize for the delay.**

**Next, Thanks to Kusivirta and Cat for being my awesome beta's. And all you kind reviewers and silent readers.**

**Thank you for your patience, and here you go~**

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><p>Neona walked hesitantly into the Cistern behind Mercer Frey. Brynjolf had offered to help her walk, but she refused to show any sign of weakness in front of this man. Neona had encountered his type many times along her travels. Narcissistic, vain, troublesome, and just a general jackass. The power of his position had gone straight to his head, but there was a reason why he was in power. Simply put, he was the best. Mercer Frey was a cunning, methodical, merciless master thief who pays an almost anal amount of attention to detail. It was these traits that landed him the duty of plotting out the high risk heists.<p>

Neona would never admit it but, as a thief, she admired this man. She had heard rumors and stories around the guild of times before she joined, Mercer had never been even close to being caught for the last 25 years or so. As if he had an uncanny ability to sense the future, or the strokes of bad luck effected everyone in the guild save its leader.

As a man, or just human being in general, Neona hated Mercer Frey. Every time he passed by, Neona could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. The way he walked, skulking in the shadows when he was among friend perplexed Neona at first. The other guild members assumed it was practice, or him dicking around, or that thieving had become so ingrained into his nature it was simply how he was.

Neona was not quite sure what to believe, but her instinct told her to be wary. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Mercer slammed the scrolls he had tucked under his arm onto the table. Before he spoke, he exhaled deeply, similar to a bull before charging.

"What the hell do you think this is?" Mercer spoke from under a brow, furrowed by a rage that Neona had yet to see in the other guild members.

"Sir?" Neona stood in front of the desk that Mercer was fuming behind. She stood as straight as she could manage, given the healing of her wounds. Five, deep gashes that stretched from her shoulder down to the base of her spine had already scabbed over, but her skin was still quite tender from being in the early stages of the healing process. Despite having a rapid healing ability as a result of her Lycanthropy, the more severe the wound, the slower it healed. The fact that it was another werewolf that carved the gashes in her back and side only aided to prolong the process.

"Is this a game, to you?" the man's eyes were sharp and piecing. She could feel them digging through her skin, but Neona refused to crack under the pressure. She got a sense that Mercer enjoyed watching his underlings squirm under the pressure he applied, but she couldn't stand even giving him a remote amount of satisfaction from her reactions.

"I don't understa-" she began, before Mercer cut her off by slamming his fist onto the desk.

"Who do you think pays for the materials in Brynjolf's potions, eh?"

"The Guild" she spoke in a flat tone, keeping the fear she felt out of her voice and off of her features. Neona stood still, staring past Mercer's rage toward a nook in the wall behind him. A technique to keep calm that she had picked up when she ran with the Khajiit'i bandits back in Elsweyr.

"That's right! Aren't you a bright one..." Mercer's lips curled into a large, sarcastic grin. "Now let me ask you this: What is the point in draining our potions, _and coin_, into you when you haven't even been around to take jobs for over a week?"

...

"And to top it off, you broke Garthar out of jail!"

"What?" Neona's brows furrowed in confusion, and a hint of anger.

"It is against my orders to jail break those stupid enough to get caught. We cant have the foot pads botching up jobs and being clumsy, thinking that there will be people to break him out should he make a stupid mistake!" the breton's face grew pink as his voice rose in anger, a small vein could be popping up from his skin in his temple.

"Out of all the shit that's happened, that is what pisses you off the most?" Neona could feel her fear melt away within her, replaced by a scalding hot anger that rushed through her veins. She clenched her fists so tight that her knuckles went white and her frame shook with the rage that threatened to be released.

"Oh," Mercer scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he walk around his desk towards her. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"What right do you have to lead these men if you lack the-" her comment was met with a sharp, back-handed slap to the face.

"Mind your tongue, _bosmer_." he spat that last word in her face, as if it were something disgusting rolling off his tongue, "Make no mistake, this is no fantasy we live."

_These men are our brothers! They are our family! How can he dismiss them so easily?_ Back in the Twilight Mist, every member could count on every other member for anything. Without any real family to care for them, and the rest of the adults turning a blind eye to their plight, they could only count on each other for support. Jail breaks weren't a rare occurrence with their newer, inexperienced members.

Mercer must have seen something in her eyes when he felt the fire of her gaze land fixedly in his own, because he took a step back from her. Neona did not falter when he had hit her. Instead, her features became ice cold and rigid. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and goosebumps spread from her spine through her knuckles, and down to her toes. Her mind went blank. How could she not have sensed it. _The moon! _The full moon was just about to rise above the horizon, she could feel its rippling effects over her form already. _I have to get out of here!_ she thought. She only had minutes before the transformation would take hold.

A low growl emitted from Neona's throat before she hobbled her way towards the ladder, sidestepping Mercer rather unceremoniously. Struggling to walk as normally as possible, completely ignoring the searing pain as the giant scabs in her side cracked open, the blood soaking the shirt Brynjolf had given her. She had to get away from here quickly, before the reactions from the forced transformation take hold. She pulled the chain that opened the way to the cemetery when her pointed, elven ears picked up the sound of someone climbing the ladder behind her.

_Shit._

The door was taking too long to open, so Neona slithered between the crack and steps, pain wracking her spine as a large bit of scab got caught against the stone and was torn off her back. Biting her lip to the point where she could taste the metallic tinge on her tongue, she limped as fast as she could towards the main gate. The guard did nothing to stop her, only making a snide comment about losing sweet rolls.

_You fucking, insensitive, douche bag, bastard-bitch. I'm coming back for you later._

"Neona!" Brynjolf called after her just as she walked out of the gate. "Neona!" She paused for a fraction of a second to look back over her shoulder before she continued running.

_No no no no no. This can't be happening... If he sees... My Life here..._ Neona's thoughts and fears crashed in on her at once, jumbling her thoughts to the point of incoherence.

A sharp dagger of sheer terror pierced her heart. The prospect of not being able to return to her friends... To Brynjolf... The fact that the moment came so soon terrified her. That her new life here had gone so wrong so quickly broke her heart. It was impossible to contain her transformation, but she tried postponing it none the less. Clenching all of her muscles, holding her breath, and willing that her shape held her elven form for a few more moments is all that kept her from changing on the spot. Of course, this prolonged the horrific pain of the change as well. She could feel the searing heat slowly fill her eyes as the fibers of her pupils and iris rearranged themselves in her skull.

"Damnit, Neona. Stop!" Neona could hear the thumping of Brynjolf's foot falls as he jogged to catch up to her, before she felt an iron grip latch to her wrist; forcing her to look into his eyes. What he saw though, we're not Neona's flame rimmed, amber eyes, these eyes were a bright yellow, her pupils thin slits, and they held back tears. What he saw in her made him recoil and step back several paces before she made her way through towards the thick of the trees. Once she was out of sight, the near deafening sound of her bone breaking transformation echoed through the forest.

The pain washed over her as quickly as it had come, tears trailed down her wolven cheeks. The pain in her side still ached, but the bleeding had slowed down considerably in this form.

She could feel the wolf spirit within her wrap it's mind lovingly around her own, consoling her as she retreated into the shrubbery safety of the trees. She sprinted for miles non-stop, letting the pain melt in the trail she left behind.

That's it. She can never return. Her life amongst the thieves of the guild was over. This is why she did not get attached to people. They were a cruel reminder of the monstrosity she truly was. There had been months where she had stayed in her wolven form, wondering if those few, happy moments she remembered were anything more than favored dreams. The pain of those memories scarred her so deeply once they were torn from her, that she pressed them from her mind as if they never happened.

Neona had relinquished full control of her movements to her wolf spirit. It normally couldn't do this in human form, since the barrier between their consciousness was far thicker then than now. After some time had passed, the wolf stopped to lap at the ice cold water of a flowing stream when she felt a nudge against her mind, bringing her back to focus on the present. The night had made way to welcome the day, the final slivers of the moon resting over the horizon. Neona was startled at the appearance of a woman with red hair, who approached her cautiously with bow knocked and ready, but not aimed at her. Two werewolves stepped from the shrubbery as well, flanking the woman as she approached. Neona could smell that these two were the same wolves she had encountered in Whiterun. The woman, though, was new.

"This... This is the one who beat the shit out of you?" She spoke between fits of laughter, clutching her stomach. "But she's... So... Small!"

The two werewolves growled before sliding packs off their shoulders and returning to their human selves and donning whatever clothing they packed.

"She's stronger then she looks, Aela. Don't let her size fool you, she knows some form of combat that we do not." the shorter of the two twins stated before approaching Neona. He stopped several yards away.

The larger of the twins simply grunted in agreement with his brother. Aela sheathed her bow and took several cautious steps closer to the wolf, testing to see if Neona would allow her approach. Aela stopping just on the opposite side of the thin stream, the wolf before her did not even acknowledge her approach.

Neona just sat by the water, lowering her head onto her paws and let the running water soak the fur by her muzzle. She didn't know what these people wanted, but at this point, she didn't really care. Even if they killed her, it would only shorten her suffered existence.

"Why does she not change back?" the thicker of the two brother asked.

"I'm more curious as to why she's not as feisty as she was when we last met." the smaller one said.

"Some thing's troubling her." Aela said, analyzing Neona's reactions as she spoke. "Probably has something to do with that man back in Riften."

Neona whimpered to the reference of Brynjolf, and avoided the inquisitive gaze of the Huntress.

"I've been tracking you for some time, moon-sister. It was chance that we found this town not an hour before we saw you running out." the Huntress continued.

Neona's ears drooped.

Sensing the werewolf's sensitivity to the subject, Aela switched the topic. "You're quiet difficult to track, moon-sister. That must have taken much training to perfect. You also took out these two brutes on your own as well."

"We weren't even trying to hurt her." Vilkas growled, crossing his arms proudly over his chest. "We were ordered to see if she was feral, which she seemed at the time." The shorter brother rubbed his forearms tenderly where Neona had dug her nails into his flesh.

"She's a skilled warrior." Farkes's deep voice rumbled.

"Come shield-brothers. She is in no position to ponder our request now. We will leave her." she turned to the twins, before fixing her gaze to Neonas, "We are the Companions. And like you, moon-sister, we share the gift of the wolf. The skill you demonstrated on these two has caught our attention, so know this: We will be watching your progress. Contact us in Jorrvaskr if you wish to consider yourself of our rank."

Neona just let a deep sigh from her wolven lungs as she watched the trio vanish through the trees, the echo of bones shattering reverberated through the branches of the forest. She didn't bother moving. The itchy, tingling sensation radiated from the wounds on her back, indicating that she was almost fully healed. The blood dried in the shirt, and would be difficult to get out. _Bugger._ Thankfully the shirt Brynjolf had given her was big enough not to tear when she changed

_Mercenaries... I bloody hate __mercs._

The werewolf closed her eyes, knowing full well that she was never permitted into the land of dreams. Instead, her mind wandered aimlessly over her memories, focusing itself in Elsweyr; land of land of sand, skooma, bandits... and Mercenariess.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading ch7 of TNatN<strong>

**Isnt Mercer an ass? i really hate him. I've been meaning to write the chapter about Neona's time in Elsweyr, land of the Khajiit. I think it would be fun to write how exactly she stole the Mane's prized pet Elephant.**

**The next chapter will have a dream sequence of Neona's time in Elsweyr, when Brynjolf wakes her up and takes her back to the guild. But not before noticing that her scars are already fully healed. How will Neona explain that one, eh? And what about her eyes from that night, just what exactly happened?**

**Ps. I'm going to be releasing funny 'shorts' of shenanigans that happen in the Ragged Flaggon titled "Tales of the Tavern." They dont happen in any particular order, i'll just have characters reference events in the 'main storyline.' I've got most of the first one already done, so you shouldnt be waiting as long for an update. **


	8. Tales of the Tavern: The Wager

**This chapter doesnt take place in any particular spot in the story, so it doesnt come right after chapter 7. It's meant to be a 'one shot' of sorts, meant more for comic relief and illustrating certain idea's than having anything to do with the 'main' story. This one in particular is meant to show she's a cunning, and somewhat underhanded, master hand to hand fighter.**

**It has been a very long time since i've posted anything. I've had this piece in editing for quite some time now, and I put some finishing touches on it to post for you. A lot of Life has happened, so out of busy-ness and laziness, I stopped writing. **

**Thanks to all of your words of encouragement for me to continue writing this story. I will indeed continue to write it, and while chapters will be slow coming (because summer classes are a bitch), Neona's adventure will eventually be written down for you all to read. **

"Does no one else challenge me?" Thrynn yelled over the howling crowd. "nobody?"

Of the crowd that lined the walls of the training room, those who weren't cheering after Thrynn were groaning in pain and were covered in bruises.

The usual gloom of the Cistern training room had been swept away by torch light and excitement for the evening's festivities. Coin flowed again within the guild, thanks mainly to the skill of their newest addition. Morale was high, and the strings on coin purses were loose this night. Viper decided that it would be a good idea to have a tournament to see who the best fighter was. The reward? The cost of that evening's food and drink for the Champion would be split amongst the losers. If the free food and drink did not attract damn near every member of the guild, the chance to show off their skills did.

Brynjolf leaned against the doorpost in the training room while everyone else crowded on the other wall, watching Thrynn dominate fighting matches.

In the corner, thieves perched themselves on the training chests used to practice lock picking, or upon barrels they gathered together. Those who weren't cheering stood, trying to mask limped gaits or bruised prides that had been awarded to them by the thief-bandit.

Brynjolf noted that Neona had perched herself upon the ledge where the archery practice dummy usually stood at least 7 feet off the ground. Instead of cheering along with the others, she sat cross legged, her head propped on her palm, elbow upon her knee. She stared analytically over the battlefield below her, over every technique and movement by the bandit-thief.

Brynjolf could see exactly what that feisty little bosmer had cooking under those twinkling, mischievous eyes. He could almost see the gears turning in her head. She was sizing up her mark.

_That's my girl._

"Will nobody challenge me?!" Thrynn repeated, yelling at the top of his lungs. Just then, Neona jumped down silently from her perch like a feline and approached the large thief-bandit.

"I will!" she yipped, happily as she started to stretch her arms. The crowd went silent for a few moments before Brynjolf became aware of the fact that Delvin had approached him. The balding thief took his spot against the wall by Brynjolf.

"Her?" Delvin laughed out loud. "Hundred septims say she's down in two minutes."

"I'll take you up on that bet, Delvin." Brynjolf added immediately, not moving his eyes from the bosmer. "She's surprised all of us this far, I wouldn't doubt she's got some other trick up her sleeve."

The bosmer finished her stretching and stood her ground proudly. Her back was straight, her chest puffed out, and her gaze didn't stray from Thrynn's.

"You? You best head back to the crowds, little girl. The ring is no place for a little woman." Thrynn taunted, hands on his hips and head slacked back as he panted to catch his breath.

"Then shall I escort you back to the kitchen, my lady?" Neona spoke, holding her hand towards Thrynn as she ushered him towards the door. The crowd erupted in laughter and 'Oooo' noises while Thrynn turned cherry red. One could almost see the vein popping out of his forehead.

"She certainly has got spice, that one. But there's just no way, Bryn. I mean... Look at them!" Delvin said, motioning towards the two combatants still lobbing insults at each other. Thrynn had well defined muscles rippled across his body, easily visible through his sweaty shirt. Neona was built like most bosmer, lithe and wiry.

Thrynn was the first to make an attack, a few testing shots to test her reflexes and prod for weaknesses. Brynjolf watched as Neona evaded, dodged, or side stepped his every strike. She was very agile, always managing to be a split second faster than her opponent. It wasn't long until Thrynn became frustrated and began putting his full force into his blows, only succeeding in tiring himself out faster.

"Tired already, Thrynn?" Neona shouted, provoking the panting Nord. "There's no way you could please a woman if you're done that quickly."

The crowd let out a deep and continuous 'ooo.'

Brynjolf smirked. Aye, so this was her plan, eh? From where he stood, he could see Thrynn's face turn all sorts of frustrated shades of red. The thief-bandit stood for a moment, Brynjolf could almost hear his temper sizzling before he let out a thunderous war cry and throwing a powerful punch to the elf's face. He would have missed what happened next had he blinked.

Neona ducked his punch, and twisted her body so her back was on the floor. She then brought one leg behind Thrynn's knees whilst holding the other firmly at his ankles and twisted, causing the bandit-thief to fall to the ground.

"Oh shit." Delvins jaw dropped. "she dropped him like a sack of potatoes."

Brynjolf couldn't help but laugh out loud, "Damn, that lass's got skills."

Thrynn scrambled back onto his feet, while Neona stayed lying on the ground, checking her nails. First he stomped at her ribs, but Neona rolled to the right and avoided his foot before resting back down. Then he tried kicking at her hips when she curled her legs to her chest, and back flipped to her feet.

"Give up yet?" Neona asked, her skin now glistening with sweat from their battle. She was panting audibly, but no where near as heavy as Thrynn. If he could, Thrynn would have glared red hot fire at that woman. Instead, he spat at the floor in front of her.

"Never." He stood straight, like any proud Nord, not accepting defeat. Brynolf saw the mischievous glint in Neonas eye, in that moment he knew that Neona had won. Thrynn was not quick enough to brace for what happened next.

In a flash, Neona had closed the gap between them and pressed her full body against the man. Thrynn's breath caught as he looked down to see The cleavage of Neona's breasts revealed from this angle down her shirt. Her lips so close to his for a split second before she moved so that her hot breath sent goosebumps around his neck. She wrapped a leg around his waist, pressing his waist closer between her legs. Taken aback by the sudden closeness, it was as if Thrynn was stunned.

Watching on, mouth agape, Brynjolf felt a pang of lust course through his system and down his spine.

Neona moved her lips to his ear and whispered something Brynjolf could not hear before she brought a boot-plated knee up to forcefully meet Thrynn's crotch. The Nord's face turned apple red as he stumbled over, clutching at his crushed jewels. Thrynn laid on his side, hardly able to utter a sound.

"Yield." she managed through short breath. The skin revealed by Neona's short cut shirt glistened with sweat accumulated from the battle.

After a moments hesitation, through gritted teeth and gasps for air, Thrynn nodded his acknowledgement of defeat.

It was only after the crowd began to cheer that Brynjolf realized how stone silent the room had become. She had the undivided attention of each thief in the room, as if she had them all enchanted.

_Did she seriously just charm us all?_

"You think if I challenge her next, she'll press herself that close to me?" Delvin spoke, staring in a trance at the bosmer in the center before he began walking to the center. "I challe- o-hey!?" was all he managed to say before Brynjolf grabbed his shoulder and pushed him back against the wall on which he was leaning.

"Oi..." After a few moments, Brynjolf had yet to move his hand, his mind focused on the crowd of people following Neona out towards the Flagon. "hey!... BRYN! What was that for?"

"Oh, eh..." He stuttered, his mind slowly gathering itself from the puddled remains the Bosmer had left it in. "You owe me a hundred septims, Delvin."

_Yup, seems like she did._


End file.
